The Bright Side
by Daisy Miller
Summary: Severus Snape was trying to look on the bright side. [A Christmas fic] [SnapeTrelawney]


_A/N: Merry (early) Christmas.

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"The Bright Side"

Severus Snape was trying to look on the bright side. He was in a room he did not want to be in, surrounded by people he did not want to be surrounded by, celebrating a holiday he did not want to be celebrating; yet he had a rather large bottle of whiskey at his disposal and he wasn't about to waste it.

He took a swig from the bottle and the warmth that spread through him helped matters a bit. He decided to actually look up and gaze at the crowd he had been avoiding ever since he arrived, unnoticed by anyone. Well, unless you count Sibyll Trelawney as someone. She had welcomed him as he stalked passed her earlier, her voice thick and silvery, her large eyes staring at him from behind her large eyeglasses with a look that suggested she was seeing something incredible. He had the impression that she would have foretold his future and subsequent death if he had walked just a few seconds slower.

Snape sighed and took another drink from his bottle. The guests were laughing and smiling and having fun. Couples inconspicuously wound their way to the mistletoe, while the others danced to Christmas carols being played from the small wireless, the sound much too large for such an appliance. Alcohol was passed around freely. Coincidentally, the alcohol was consumed mostly by the ones who were dancing rather unprofessionally. Snape detested them.

"Thirsty, Severus?" asked Remus Lupin, noticing Snape standing in the dark corner, much like spider hiding to one side of its web, clutching a bottle of liquor as if it was his only chance of survival in such a jungle of happiness.

Remus smiled politely. His smile was returned with a frosty glare, and Remus chuckled to himself.

"Oh, come now, Severus. No one here hates you; if they did you wouldn't have been invited. You can stand to socialize for an hour or so . . . ." Remus took a small sip of his drink. "Merry Christmas, Severus," he said, walking away into the cheery crowd.

Snape grumbled to himself, muttering something that sounded vaguely like "Merry Christmas my–"

"Severus!" said a wispy voice in his ear.

He cringed slightly, recognizing the voice of Sibyll, and turned to her. "Yes?" he asked curtly, his right eyebrow raised.

"I wanted to tell you that the moons of Jupiter are in exactly the right position for you." She smiled as if this information would help him greatly. As it were, it did not help him greatly, nor did it help him slightly. In fact, it didn't help him at all. He could have lived quite a long time without ever knowing such information.

"_Thank you_," he said, his voice filled with sarcasm so sharp it pierced the thick air between them, which was a rather strange thing for his sarcasm to pierce at that moment; for Severus hadn't been aware that the air was thick at all.

He took another long drink from his bottle of whiskey and found that the room had suddenly become rather warm. He loosed his neck collar.

" . . . and, as you may well know, Jupiter is a very important planet in your divinatory chart, Severus," Trelawney was saying. She took a long gulp of air as he peered down at her, and began to prattle on some more. "I was viewing the planets's positions the other day . . ."

The room didn't seem to be getting any cooler, so he loosened his neck collar some more and rolled up his sleeves slightly. He took another sip of his whiskey and found that his bottle was empty. He cursed.

"What was that?" asked Sibyll, cutting off her lecture on the positions of planets. Being considerably smaller than Severus Snape, she looked up at him, and found that her view of him was obscured by a little speck of dirt. "Oh," she said, taking off her glasses to polish them quickly.

Snape looked down at her thin hands as they moved the fabric of her green dress across the lens of her thick glasses. He didn't even know why the woman still wore them. It's not like there wasn't a quick little spell that would fix her eyesight. Besides, the woman had nice eyes; she didn't need to be hiding them . . . .

Her head began to wobble back and forth, and Snape realized that he was getting dizzy.

"Are you . . . alright, Severus?" she asked, noticing that the professor was even more pale than usual. He began to walk towards the door. "Some fresh air, then?"

Sibyll followed him out of the room and into the quite hallway. Snape, however, did not intend for her to follow him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice thick with the influence of whiskey. "I didn't ask you to come!"

She stared at him, looking quite reluctant to show that she was embarrassed. She stood up straight and mumbled something undistinguishable. Turning around, she pushed past Severus and walked through the doorway.

However, she didn't make it completely through the doorway, for she found that she could not take another step. Stuck beside Severus Snape, she peered upwards, passed his large (but sophisticated) nose and his greasy hair (that was actually the same color as the night sky). Sibyll Trelawney found that they were stuck underneath a sprig of mistletoe.

Considering that this was the type of situation that Sibyll's dreams were made of, her heart was not burdened by the prospect of snogging Snape. Snape, on the other hand, was burdened heavily with embarrassment and a hidden desire.

He could glare all he liked, he could smirk all he liked, and he could fail all the students he liked, but Severus Snape was a human. He had human emotions . . . though they were hidden and much more subtly shown. He had human reactions to things . . . though his reactions usually included much anger and spite.

His human reaction to being caught underneath the mistletoe was embarrassment, and his human emotion was the stupid, animalistic desire to snog her bloody senseless.

It may be a shock to you, dear reader, but it had been a mighty long time since someone was willing to even stand that close to Snape, and he felt the strange desire to not waste his opportunity for some human contact.

As it were, he didn't have a choice to waste it, for he could not move either. Some fool had charmed the mistletoe, and the only way he would be able to move again was to kiss Sibyll. The room, by this time, had quieted, everyone looking expectantly at them. He heard a few distant catcalls, and he would have turned to hex the mouth they had come from shut. But turning meant looking at the expectant crowd, and he didn't feel like making eye contact, lest he lose whatever shield of composure he still possessed and stared blushing like a hormonal school-boy.

And, as everyone knows, Severus Snape never blushed (even when he was a hormonal school-boy), and if a hint of pink was ever seen upon his cheek the world would surely have ended.

With a disgusted sigh, that was more for show than for actual disgust, he leaned in and kissed her roughly on her lips.

There. He did it. Now he could leave. Go home. Maybe sulk in the dark for a while.

But he did not bargain on Sibyll's frail bones having such strength. She shoved him against the doorpost, her lips firmly set against his own.

In a rush of shock, the crowd cheered and laughed, finding Severus' discomfort quite entertaining. In a last effort to simply leave, he grabbed her arms and pushed her out into the hallway.

She took a breath and attacked him again.

To his credit, he tried to push her back for the first second or so. But carnal instinct took over and he felt a warmth in his belly: a warmth he hadn't felt since the night he had finally gotten Susie Day pinned against the dungeon walls in his seventh year.

Sibyll's tongue darted across his lips, and he wondered vaguely how she learned to kiss at all. Maybe she practiced with those foolish crystal balls of hers? Charmed them to have lips or something? Or maybe it was those frilly pillows?

He shrugged, looking on the bright side of things.

Yes, he was snogging Sibyll Trelawney.

Yes, he everyone had seen him.

Yes, he wanted to curse every single person in the room just behind the wall he was pushed up against.

But she was a good kisser. And that helped matters a bit.

_fin._


End file.
